“My Lord!” He choked out, clawing at Tristan’s hand, “Please!”
“Oh,nowyou have manners?” Tristan snarled, squeezing the man’s throat tighter. “Let us see if you have wits too. Where did he send this from?”
“Who?” The man choked out.
Tristan growled as he pulled the man forward, then shoved him back into the gate.
“You know who!” He barked. “The man that gave you this letter! Where. Is. He?!”
“I do not know,” the man choked out, starting to turn purple. “I swear, I do not know. I was just picked up from Bow Street by a man in a gold mask. He gave me this and a hundred pounds to deliver this to you. I swear!”
“My Lord!” Tristan looked up as two of his best guards, Marc and Tobias, ran up from the other side of the gate, pistols drawn. “Has this man attacked you?!”
“Me?!” The messenger gasped, still struggling in Tristan’s tight grasp. “I am the one being attacked, not him!”
“Shall we take him to the constable, My Lord?” Marc asked, ignoring the man’s gasping words.
Tristan kept his gaze on the messenger, studying him intently for a moment as his complexion shifted from purple to blue. Then, deciding that he was telling the truth, Tristan let him go and watched him drop the ground.
“No,” Tristan replied as the messenger gasped for air and coughed. “Let him go.”
He waited, letting the man get himself up onto wobbly legs, then as he began to stagger off, Tristan opened the gates.
“Follow him,” He demanded to Marc and Tobias. “If you see him meeting with a tall noble with white hair, one of you come report it to me at once. The other stays on that man’s tail.”
The two guards nodded at the command, and disappeared after the messenger. Far too enraged to try to go inside and sleep, Tristan mounted his horse, and made his way for Bow Street.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Tristan?” Ophelia murmured.
She tried to pry itchy eyes open, and the world spun as tiny shards of light peeked through. Sh drew in a breath, her mouth feeling dry and coated with a funny taste. The need to vomit drew upon her quick, and she lurched forward. Her hands hit the ground hard and felt an ache move from her lower belly all the way up to her throat, and wretched.
“Tristan,” Abraham’s voice broke through her heavy panting. “You have murmured his name many times in the last few hours. He must have left quite an impression on you.”
Ophelia trembled as she lifted her head. Abraham was sitting in a black velvet and walnut chair across from her, watching her closely. She then looked around the room; taking in the polished dark wood floor, teal blue paint of the walls, and the black velvet curtains. A fireplace sat across from her, flames crackling within it, and to the right and opposite the door, a desk.
“What have you done?” Ophelia asked, pushing herself up to her knees. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and only then realized something: she was no longer tied up.
“What I had to,” Abraham answered calmly, steepling his fingers together. “I am owed much, and I am tired of waiting for it.”
Ophelia’s head throbbed. Her vision was still blurry and her body was screaming for food and water. Yet she ignored it all. There was a way out, and she needed to focus on finding it.
“And what do Tristan and I have to do with what you are owed?” She asked.
“You?” Abraham asked, raising a brow. “Sadly, my dear, you were just a pawn. A way to ensure that Tristan gave me what I wanted.”
He paused, scoffing.
“I figured you meant something to him. You were the only guest at his little club that got a guard escort both in and out of the place, but when I snuck in that last night, saw how he was ready to pummel that man on the dance floor just for kissing your knuckles? I knew for certain that he would do anything for you.”
Ophelia’s heart twisted at his words; her feelings for Tristan roaring back in an instant.
“As for your…what do you call him? Lord Perfect? Well I suppose that is a matter of legacy,” Abraham went on. “His father and I were partners long ago. We went in on an investment together. I did not have much money at the time; thanks to my gambling-addicted father, so I only could only afford to put up a small percentage.”
Abraham looked away from her, his eyes growing dazed as if he were traveling back to that long ago time. Ophelia edged quietly toward the desk, hoping to find something to protect herself with.
“The investment paid off. Grandly. I wanted more ownership so I gave my earnings right on back to Darlington, wanting to up my percentage in the investment. Then I made a small, stupid mistake and it went belly-up. Left me with less than before.”
